The Butterfly
by marval3
Summary: I was greeted by the butterfly as a child. Naively I didn't think twice when it introduced itself as God, claiming I was a chosen one needed in a war yet to come. [HIATUS]
1. Chapter 1

Based off of the story _To Save the Fallen_ written by LiveWild.

This will mainly follow canon events but it might deviate slightly. Updates could be scattered depending if I catch writer's block or not — which hopefully is not.

Disclaimer – I don't own Supernatural only my characters and my work.

* * *

In the beginning, there were four archangels; Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel. God was present, but there was an arising tension between the siblings as the Father began to create more life, experimenting with creation on Earth.

Then, humans were made. They were free from any desire or hatred. As they were of His making and he cared for them as a father would to a child, he asked for his angels to bow to them. But Lucifer refused; his pride wouldn't allow him to kneel to a weaker species. Now feeling that he was no longer his Father's favorite creation, Lucifer waged war on Heaven.

The battle was harsh; God knew that his son had been corrupted by the Darkness and his judgement was clouded. There would be no more reasoning, and so he told Michael to go confront his brother and cast him down.

Lucifer was imprisoned. Gabriel had disappeared. Angels were either banished or dead. And God was gone.

—•—

Earth was young, as was its inhabitants. Humans were at the tip of the iceberg; as God observed his creation he felt pity. They were once innocent; but after Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden their descendants worked tirelessly under the burning sun, digging into dirt that begged for a drop of rain. He glanced up at the sky, and as he willed it heavy clouds formed and soon water poured down. God listened to their rejoices below, but the war had left him with a heavy heart that nothing could heal.

—•—

Chuck awoke sometime in the middle of the night. He had a dream; it was in Detroit, a human who he had kept his eye on throughout time was in the presence of a holy being. But the holy light was tainted with a darkness that he recognized with a jolt; Lucifer. This event had not come to pass — not for a few decades or so. If he wanted to he could do something about it, but why? His creations had already failed him so why not just stand by and let it all go to hell?

Yet Lucifer was his fault. His favorite son was rotting in the cage because of Chuck's own actions. And soon the son would escape with a vendetta against his father; he would try to bring Earth to ruin. There was a shred of obligation he felt towards the humans, they were suffering from the repercussions of his mess after all.

The light flickered on and Chuck dragged himself to his desk where his fingers hovered above the typewriter. His eyes stared at the empty sheet of paper waiting for words to blot it's page, then an idea came to mind.

Chuck knew as he typed many things could change, but he held on to Detroit, basing the diverging future off of that.

_And then there was a fifth archangel. She was the last to come into creation. With fair hair and beauty that is of a celestial being, her given name is Ophiel. _


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n **99% sure angels don't have souls but you will see Ophiel / Marie express emotions. To clear things up for future chapters since the way Chuck made her (kind of birthing an archangel so they and the vessel are the same) it's a mix of her copying others expressions or her body's own genuine feelings.

* * *

My first memory was June 3rd, 1983.

I was being held in warm arms, bright lights — blinding compared to the darkness I'd once been surrounded in — engulfed me. And there was a shrill cry.

Oh, it was me.

I couldn't stop; but the others didn't seem to mind as I screamed continuously. Finally, I was given to someone. The little hushes and words that I couldn't comprehend reached my ears and I quieted. Whoever held me I knew that I could trust.

My body relaxed and I leaned against a firm surface, drifting off to sleep.

— • —

I greeted the person I called my mother with a babble. Her eyes flickered down and her mouth opened to respond with some nonsense baby talk.

Already I was two and could understand regular speech. But whenever I tried to speak more complicated words it came out gibberish. And it only annoyed me when my mother talked to me like I was an infant — although that's just what I was.

She scooped me up and ran a hand through my hair. A pout came across her face as she stuck her lip out, examining my face. "Aw are you mad?"

I huffed and turned away.

— • —

I would remember a monarch fluttering around me whenever I went outside. My eyes were drawn to it, and I'd follow the thing as if in a trance.

A sense of tranquility would come over me whenever I was in it's presence. And when it spoke to me it didn't come as a surprise. I listened as it declared itself as God, and I was a chosen one needed in a war that was yet to come.

The butterfly talked, and I listened.

— • —

The year was 2005 and I was in the hospital. I stood beside my mother's bed, holding gently onto her limp hand. The cardiac monitor showed a slow beating of my mother's heart. She was suffering from breast cancer, it was incurable.

A butterfly landed on my shoulder and I looked at it with somber eyes. "Can't I heal her?"

His voice resounded in my head;

_This is meant to be. As much as it pains you, the natural order mustn't be disturbed. _

I nodded slowly, saddened by the answer I was given. Suddenly, a long beep filled the air and I stared at the straight line signaling no heartbeat. Nurses rushed into the room and I was ushered out into the hallway.

I drifted to the doorway and stared with wide eyes at the sight of my mother convulsing as they tried to resurrect her with defibrillators. But after a few tries, one nurse shut off the monitor sending the room into a deafening silence.

"Time of death; 8:09 PM."

A shaky breath left my lungs and I snapped around, my back hitting the wall. I could no longer sense her. The presence of the one who had raised me, loved me and treated me as her own was gone.

Everything was cold. Everything was empty.

Wings brushed my cheek as He flew past, catching my attention before landing on my nose.

_She has a place in Heaven. One day, you will be able to visit her yourself. _

I sniffled, rubbing my nose. "Will I be dead?" There was an indescribable sound — from the other times I've heard it I've classified it as Him laughing.

_No, you will be alive._

And I couldn't help but smile at that.

— • —

A year had passed and the monarch stayed by my side. He told me stories of His past; the tales of how Earth came to be and the war in Heaven. I had heard the stories when I went to Sunday School, but never to the extent He described them to me now. Fascinated, I relearned the narrative through the voice of God.

Next a decision came suddenly — although I had no choice in the matter so would it really count as a decision? I was told to go to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

I questioned Him and was only told that everything would become clear with time. So with a long bus ride and some change, I managed the distance from the only home I'd ever known to the place requested by God.

Soon, I was told He would have to leave me. I objected at first; the thought of being alone without his guiding presence frightened me. But He assured me that he'd always be watching over. And so by the time I arrived in Sioux Falls, God was gone, leaving me with only these parting words;

_Grow stronger in both body and mind. When the time comes to play your part you must be ready._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n **On the wiki it says that John died either on July 19th or August 6th 2006, for this chapter it'll be in July. And thank you to _Morgan_ for reviewing!

— • —

July 1, 2006

An angel showed up in my room last night. She gently awoke me with a tap on the shoulder. Harahel was her name; she had been watching over me. After hearing of my lack of knowledge concerning the other worldly power I bore by God, she descended from the Heavens and offered her help.

Who sent her surprised me, I had thought God left me to fare on my own. But I was thankful for her aid. I then studied her and recognized that she was like me and of pure intent, so I obeyed her words and attempted to comprehend her teachings.

At first I had to learn a different alphabet. Harahel called it Enochian. I inquired if it was a dead language like Latin but she merely shook her head.

"It is the dialect of the angels. Only we can comprehend it."

It came to me easily, but at times Harahel had to remind me that I was mixing tongues together. When I had mastered Enochian, we moved on to communicating not verbally but silently, telepathically. Harahel introduced angel radio to me — although she said I myself should never speak on it since my existence should stay concealed.

Two weeks passed and in between my training I tuned into angel radio. There was a substantial amount of chatter that flowed into my mind one day, unlike any other time I had accessed the channel. Throughout the buzz one name I found kept resurfacing;

Winchester.

— • —

Harahel honed my mental skills as much as she could; and then it was time for the physical trials. She had to bring out the instinct in me, the angel one at least. I thought too much like a human in dangerous situations Harahel told me, if I was ever threatened I would need to be prepared to fight if necessary.

And so she began to put me in situations that would attempt to bring out my powers.

I would be teleported onto a dinghy in the middle of an ocean, my only way back to land would be to somehow do the reverse of what brought me there. There were many trials and errors; it wasn't until a hurricane nearly drowned me that the true feeling of fear struck me and suddenly my body was lying in sand. A smile graced my lips and I sunk my face into the grains, taking fistfuls of it rejoicing the existence of land.

Her tests continued; from breaking my arm for me to heal myself to summoning a demon and letting it loose on me.

I never resented her although. Harahel had become a mentor to me, someone I looked to for guidance. She was an angel worthy of God's praise.

— • —

"It is strange that you eat." Harahel commented, her eyes watching me spoon soup into my mouth.

My eyes flickered down, the steam from the hot liquid brushing my lashes. "I've always eaten, I guess that's the more human part of me." The angel nodded and turned her attention to the window. Darkness reigned outside, covering everything in a blanket of night.

"I have received word from God, that I need to return to Heaven." She spoke up, casually drawling out her words. I looked to her in surprise.

The chair I sat in squeaked against the floor as I stood. "What did he say?"

Harahel's orbs ran around the room quickly. It seemed she was getting anxious. "Only that." There was a moment of silence broken by a quiet sigh. "It still shocks me everytime I hear from Him. He left all those years ago and to suddenly hear His voice asking me to help this ignorant archangel...I cannot say I was not resentful."

Her words caused a heavy weight to appear on my chest. Hesitantly I met her eyes, "Why do you tell me all this, Harahel?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You are young, a baby compared to any of us. You must idolize God for he created you, guided you in your time of need. But he abandoned Heaven when _we_ needed him most. And have you even thought about these plans that he has for you? What if the outcome isn't what you expect?"

My jaw set and I became mute. Where was this coming from? She had never shown any dislike towards God or even mentioned him deserting the angels — a thing I had never heard of before. Despite her rather shocking claims my faith remained strong. I knew by disagreeing with her I would create a rift in our friendship, I answered truthfully, "I believe His plans are a means to an end. And I intend to see it through."

She leaned back slightly, nodding at my words. It was in that moment that our bond broke. In her eyes I was only another archangel, a pawn in God's game. And she would no longer be a participant in it. Harahel met my gaze, "I will leave for Heaven tonight."

Surprise overtook me and I exclaimed, "Tonight?! But that's too soon–"

She silenced me with a hand. "That is final." Her eyes wandered over me, examining me head to toe. "I taught you well, don't die as soon as I leave please."

I managed to crack a smile. "I'll try."

— • —

The next morning as I rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes, the conversation from last night struck me. Snapping up now very much awake I looked around the room.

Harahel was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

February 17, 2010

My day at Biggerson's Restaurant took a deep plunge to unpleasant the second an elderly man was escorted in. Him and the company he kept souls were vile; there were demons and something different, an older entity.

Chaos erupted in the room seconds after the wheelchair bound man entered. Customers and staff alike were in a frenzy; digging wildly into their food, mounting each other and savagely pressing their bodies against another. I hid myself under a counter, since for an unknown reason I was unaffected maybe I could formulate a plan to get rid of the demons. But there were so many of them…

In the end I didn't move, staying crouched uncomfortably with my legs folded and pressed to my chest.

This situation frightened me.

Yes, Harahel's training had similar circumstances to this. But in her trials, whenever the enemy got the upper hand she would swoop in and kill it. Back then there was Harahel, here I was alone.

— • —

They were doing something to the souls. I could no longer feel their presence and the urge to peak above the counter tempted me. I bit the insides of my cheek, nervous. And slowly I inched out of my hiding place, twisting my neck around to survey the room.

All the humans were dead. The demons and the strange man were still in the restaurant, just standing there. In the darkness I almost didn't notice an object for it was distant from anything else. My eyes narrowed in on a shape, unable to discern it in the poor lighting but looking beyond its physical form with surprise I saw an angelic presence. There was an angel, like Harahel, like me.

Forgetting about the imminent threat I went to stand, but a harsh whisper caused me to snap back down. A man had wandered into the restaurant. He stood behind the counter, calling out to the angel I assume. I wondered if he knew about the demons, and I decided to tug on his jeans and give a warning when he abruptly spun around.

My hand jumped back, startled from the sounds of fighting overhead. My stomach twisted into knots and the feeling I had to get out of here arose in my mind again. I should've left then and there for a demon collided with the floor; his head turned and coal black eyes locked with mine.

He wasted no time grabbing me; my arms already sore from his fingers digging into my skin as he dragged me up and to the center of the room. I allowed myself to be taken, I was not to be known as an archangel. My powers were not to be revealed unless necessary.

I had forgotten Harahel's words when I almost revealed myself to the angel. I looked at it as I passed by; it was too preoccupied with shoving meat into its mouth to notice my presence.

Begrudgingly I was pushed before the man in the wheelchair, the one who I couldn't place. His chest racked with a wheezing cough, I looked the man over confused as to how such a sick man could be the cause of all this. He nodded in my direction asking,

"Who are you?"

I raised my brows at his words. "Me? I work here. Who are you?" I genuinely wanted to know.

The old man had a crooked smile on his face that made me uneasy. "You're not entirely human are you?" My lips which were pressed into a thin line became lax, he saw passed my façade for a second but that was long enough for him. A dry chuckle reached my ears. "Interesting. Wake him up."

I turned to see the human from earlier being slapped across the face. He convulsed once as he awoke; a mixture of panic and confusion filled his eyes and he tried to fight off the demons holding him. When it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, he took a look around the room.

The man first saw the angel and spoke to him in a low voice. I watched the human's facial expression; his jaw set, finally setting his narrowed gaze on the old man. He played it cool as he spoke,

"So what is all this?" The human began. "Making people cuckoo for cocoa puffs? Not that fancy if you ask me."

The elder stared at the one addressing him, he felt that the man was below him — not just him the other humans as well, and I could see it in his expression which held no emotions at all. To him anyone else was just a bug. "It doesn't take much. Oh America. All–You–Can–Eat all the time, consume, consume. And yet, you're all still starving because the hunger doesn't just come from the body it also comes from the _soul_."

I stood rigid, my eyes tentatively flickering back and forth between the man and elder who seemed to be getting more savage. Again the thought to stop this came into my mind, but it conflicted with Harahel's words not to reveal myself and so I stayed put.

"It's funny, it doesn't seem to be coming from mine." The man again tried to break free but the hold on him was strong.

"Yes…" The older one drawled out. "I noticed that. Would you want to know how you're able to even walk in my presence?"

His brows jumped up as he cracked a joke, "Well I like to think it's because of my strength of character."

"I disagree."

And the old man began moving forward, the scream of his mechanical wheelchair filled my ears sending a hoard of butterflies loose in my stomach that flew more erratically the closer he got to his prisoner. I recognized the look on his face, the same feelings he was going through I sympathized with. Staring down an enemy was something I had forgoed in my training; although this was life or death not a simulation.

I found myself walking towards the pair. A demon approached me but before it could touch me I flung an arm out my hand covering it's forehead, and I felt the power that I hadn't used for so long flow through me.

A body fell to the floor, where it's eyes were supposed to be were empty sockets charred and smoke curling into the air from the burned flesh.

Silence filled the room, no one was completely sure what to do. The man looked up at me in surprise, the other demons held their ground, and the old man clenched a fist shouting, "Kill her!"

The demons inched in my direction, weapons drawn. I glanced around unsure; there were at least ten of them, could I really take them all?

"Let them go." A calm voice broke the tension. I turned and saw a newcomer, tall — abnormally so. He had what I assumed was _blood _smeared on his face, he didn't look approachable but rather like a wild animal.

Both the old man and prisoner seemed to know the stranger for they called him by name; Sam.

I was no longer a threat and the demons began to approach Sam only to be called off by old man. He shouted, "Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy." My brows drew together in confusion and I shot him a strange look due to the name.

"I see you got the snack I sent." The elder spoke, when he addressed Sam his voice was softer, more careful.

Sam's face twitched. "_You_ sent?"

I looked over to the man and saw him staring wide eyed at Sam, if the demons weren't holding him back it seemed he would push past any obstacle and get the other human out of here. I felt pity for him, I could see that he valued Sam deeply.

The older man raised his hands, spreading them wide. In a gleeful voice he said, "Take these too, slit their throats and drink to your full." A disturbed feeling ran through me, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling.

What did he mean? Did Sam's outwardly appearance deceive me and was he not human? For one to drink demon blood — a mortal for that matter — something must be wrong.

In the background I thought I heard the man yelling, I would never know for I focused on Sam as he raised his hands and gripped at air. It appeared he wasn't doing anything until the demons started gagging, falling to their knees and their hosts regurgitated the black smoke within them.

My mind went blank and my first instinct was that Sam was a threat, possibly a demon. Even though he was taking out those monsters he could be one himself. Now I knew I had to take action, and get out of here.

I began to move towards the front door when the man's voice reached my ears clearly, "Don't you dare! You stay where you are!" My eyes flickered to him and saw that he was free, he sent a warning look in my direction and I stumbled back.

Bodies fell to the floor and the demons which were once inside them idled above the ground covering it like fog. Sam looked at the old man and said, "No."

"Well...fine. If you don't want them, then I'll have them." The uneasiness bottled up inside me made me sick. I watched as the old man opened his mouth wide drawing the demons in. The smoke slithered up, filled the air and violently entering his mouth.

He _consumed _them.

Everything was happening so fast. My attention was drawn back to Sam as he didn't miss a beat, bringing his arm up again this time aimed at the old man. He was clearly struggling, but his powers — or whatever they were — weren't working.

I could detect humor in his tone as the old man spoke, "I'm a Horseman Sam. Your power doesn't work on me."

"You're right, but it will work on them." And Sam closed his fist. My eyes frantically moved back and forth between Sam and the old man, trying to grasp what was happening.

The older one started to convulse, pain appearing on his face and his mouth stretched wide like before. The human was straining himself to complete his goal so much that eventually blood leaked out of his nostril.

A demonic screaming was in the air; a sudden burst of black accompanied it.

The old man was dead, and the demons he had taken in as well. Since there was no imminent threat I surveyed the room, my instincts still told me to run. The angel was getting to his feet, the man approached Sam a look in his eyes I couldn't describe whereas Sam was still attempting to catch his breath.

The two men just stared at each other not saying a word. Almost ashamed Sam hung his head and slowly made his way towards the door, the other followed.

Before he left the man stopped in the doorway facing the angel. He ran a hand down his face directing his glassy eyes towards the ceiling. "Listen Cas, we'll be at Bobby's so — just meet us there and deal with her." He jabbed a finger in my direction before rushing out the door.

There was a moment of silence. I still looked at the door and didn't turn until the sound of a knife scratching the floorboards reached my ears.

'Cas' had picked up a jagged-edged knife, he kept his eye on me as he sawed off the old man's finger, proceeding to stick it in his pocket. I winced, disgusted at him.

We now stood a few feet away from each other; I had the feeling that he was staring through me, looking to see who I truly was. Apprehensiveness filled me and I tried not to think bad thoughts, but failed terribly.

Cas is an angel so would he bring me to heaven? Harahel taught me about rebellious angels who strayed from their duties and eventually were killed because of it. Would he think I was one of them? He may not even consider bringing me to Heaven and just kill me on the spot!

"So–" Cas spoke and I jumped, so lost in my thoughts I wasn't expecting it. He raised a brow then went on, "who are you? And why are you here? Did someone send you?"

So many questions at once. It took me a minute — during which Cas looked to slowly lose his patience, but I answered, "My name is Marie and I work here, no one sent me."

Confusion overtook Cas' face. "Wait a minute you work here? But why?" I sighed dropping my gaze to the floor. I couldn't explain it to him without revealing too much.

A hand suddenly hit my shoulder shoving me back. In my daze, Cas grabbed ahold of me lifting me off me feet taking steps until he slammed me against the wall. I grunted as I collided with the hard surface, the air momentarily knocked out of me. I recovered fairly quick and my hands were on his, going to pry off his hold. But I stilled when he brought out an angel blade.

"I am not in the mood for games." His eyes were cold. I knew that this one before me was one like Harahel; an experienced being, beautiful yet deadly. "Give me truthful answers." The unsaid 'or else' hung heavy in the air.

I nodded.

"Why are you different than other angels? Your mannerism and reaction time...it's unlike what I've seen." His eyes scattered around the room as he thought of a reason to explain me. "Are you fallen?" My brows drew together and I shook my head denying it. I didn't even know what 'fallen' meant.

The room grew quiet and his stare remained on me. They burned with a need to know who I am, if I was one who could be trusted. I didn't know if I could give him honesty, as silence was the thing that kept me safe while I awaited my time.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something. It was outside and I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But it happened again; there was a shimmer, a reflection of the moonlight. I strained my neck to try and see past Cas and there it was; a butterfly.

"What is it?" Cas turned his head around and back but I didn't provide an answer.

"Is that you?" I whispered.

_Yes. _

I was stunned, after the events of tonight and suddenly seeing Him after years caused me to wonder if he was just an illusion.

_This is no illusion._

Slowly I leaned my head back on the wall. Relief filled me, now I had guidance.

Still quiet I asked, "What should I do?"

Cas had caught on and his brows furrowed. "Who are you speaking to? Is there someone else in the room?"

_Tell him what you need to. It is alright to trust this angel, his name is Castiel. He watches over Sam and Dean Winchester. They are your mission._

"My mission? But how — what am I supposed to do?" It was quiet and when the idea that I was alone again came to mind dread filled me. I desperately searched for Him outside but I found nothing.

He had disappeared again.

—

**A/n **originally had it Feb. 11 but there's this cool wiki that has the timeline for the seasons and it said this episode (S5 E14) took place Feb. 14 – Feb. 17, minor change :)


	5. Chapter 5

"You can release me I am ready to talk."

I shouldn't be bothered by God leaving, even as abruptly as he did this time. But I still wish I had his presence by my side like I did when I was younger.

Cas scanned my face, then took a large step back. "Who were you talking to?"

"God."

The angel's face became slack and he raised his brows in disbelief. "God? God talks to you?"

I shrugged slightly. "He doesn't with everyone?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "No. He does not. Listen I've been looking for God for a while, you say he talks to you?" I nodded. "Do you know where he is?" He looked at me expectantly and when I shook my head the hope in him dwindled.

"I'm sorry." I offered as he began pacing the room. Eventually he stopped, sitting in a chair. Cautiously I approached and sat across from him.

"God told me that the Winchesters are my mission. I don't know what that means but I think I'm supposed to stay with you."

"He doesn't make sense." Cas mumbled.

I pressed my lips together in the silence that followed. "Does that mean I'm going with you?"

His eyes met mine, staring me down. "You could be an asset if you can speak to God. When we get to the others we'll have a talk."

I shook my head in agreement. Cas then held out his arm to me, I looked at it blankly before he sighed and gripped my shoulder.

I blinked and we were no longer in the restaurant. Wooden walls surrounded me, a fire crackled warming the room, books and beer bottles were scattered about.

"Dean!" Cas called and subsequently wandered off.

I stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure if I was to follow him or not. Then arguing voices reached my ear coming from the next room, it was Cas and the man — his name is Dean I assumed. I wasn't able to pick up anything discernable in the conversation, but from the dirty look sent in my direction it didn't appear like I was welcomed. I readied myself as the pair headed in my direction.

Dean's stride was powerful, approaching fast and not stopping until he towered over me. His features displayed his rage and he spat out, "If he's even real you talk to God and call him down and have him clean up his mess. It's his son that's causing this shitshow and my brother who's suffering from it so have him get off his ass, and do something." He then flipped around and stalked out of the room. I released the breath I had been holding, raising my head to look at Dean's retreating figure.

Once I collected myself I reflected on his words, finding them unfair. Just because I had a one-way communication with God I suddenly get targeted?

My eyes drifted up to Cas, "He isn't being reasonable. I cannot will God to my command. He contacts me not the other way around."

"I see...well I'm sorry about Dean. He's going through a lot right now." Castiel paused, glancing around before his stare landed back on me. "I have other matters to attend to. I trust that you won't cause any trouble?" Suspicion was masked within his tone, understandably he didn't trust me yet.

I examined the room. "I'll stay here."

Cas nodded. He looked at me once more left.

— • —

"Who's this chick?"

I met eyes with an older man; he rolled into the room abruptly, the wheelchair he sat in jerking to a surprised stop upon noticing me loitering. He developed an incredulous look on his face at the sight of an intruder and I felt the need to quickly straighten things out.

I stood from the couch, smoothing down my clothes. He traced my movements with a cautious eye as I held out a hand for him to shake, "Hello, I'm Marie. An...angel." I was hesitant to say it after needing to keep it secret for so long. Having the words on my tongue felt like I was doing something wrong; betraying Harahel.

A brow shot up in surprise and the man made no move to meet my hand, awkwardly my arm fell back to my side. "You don't say…" He regarded me for a second longer then turned his wheelchair around and headed out of the room. I followed behind him as he shouted a Winchester's name. He pried open a door that revealed a fairly lit stairwell and waited, I had paused at the entrance of the room, now leaning up against the trim waiting to see what was happening. The man's neck strained to see if anyone was coming, so much I thought that his chair would go tumbling down the stairs. Finally the sound of a man making his ascent let the stranger relax some. He shot a glance over his shoulder, a light glare in my direction, before turning to Dean whose brows were raised expectantly.

They talked in murmured voices, wanting privacy in whatever they were saying. I watched their faces as they spoke, met some of Dean's annoyed gazes that flickered my way occasionally.

The conversation changed when the older man placed a seemingly concerned hand on Dean's forearm — the highest he could reach — and muttered something along the lines of 'are you okay?'. A flicker of desperation and something else came across his face, but Dean's head ducked and the emotions were gone. He bid goodbye and the man lingered there for a few moments, watching Dean disappear.

The wheelchair bound man turned around, I noticed he didn't seem that familiar with how to properly use one and wondered exactly how long ago had he lost the ability to walk.

He heaved a sigh, giving me a tight smile. "I guess you're alright. I'm Bobby."

My lips twitched upwards, mimicking his expression. "Nice to meet you, Bobby."

— • —

I idled in the living room for a long while, and when a distant clock chimed three, I was startled from a tranquil state. Although I wasn't tasked with it I'd tended to the fire, throwing wood and twisted newspaper into the flames so now it crackled with a great ferocity.

Dean went outside a while ago and I assumed Bobby had gone to sleep. Cas was absent but I sensed he hadn't left the house.

I rubbed my eyes attempting to wish away any fatigue, I didn't want to sleep just yet.

Walking around the room I thumbed through the pages of books stacked high on the floor or rolled bottles over so I could read their labels. I had gone through at least ten books and something struck me; they all concerned the supernatural. There were books on werewolves and vampires, the occult and mythology.

The more I found out about this situation the stranger it got. My lips pressed together as I thought; books on the supernatural, an angel who kept mortals as company, and a strange human who could kill demons without touching them. The connections were there but I failed to see them.

"It seems that the others have gone to sleep. We'll have to have the talk later." I turned and saw Cas' figure partially illuminated in the flickering light the fire provided.

"That's alright. Is there a place I can sleep?" I questioned. Cas' head tilted sideways and he gawked at me.

"You are in fact, an angel?" I nodded. He still appeared confused, and I would've liked to try and clarify it to him but I didn't want to have to do it twice.

My hand drifted back until it hit the couch's arm, I patted it drawing attention to it. "I'll sleep here, then explain things in the morning."

Castiel bobbed his head, still uncertain. "I will be downstairs if you happen to need me." And he turned, his trench coat blowing up as he did.

Once he was gone, I settled onto the couch. There were two pillows in each corner of the furniture; I took both and placed them one side. A blanket that was draped over the top now covered me. It was small and only extended down to my knees, but I was thankful that I had something.

I steadied my breathing, trying not to think about how crazy of a day it'd been. Time passed, and eventually I fell asleep.

—

**A/n**

**6/21/19**

So edited this chapter (and a few after it) because I forgot Bobby was in a wheelchair at the start of season 5. But it's all good now


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n **It's probably already known but after chapter 3 this story is set from S5 E14 and so on.

Enjoy :D

—

I had been awake for an hour.

Bobby had shuffled into the kitchen, opening up the fridge and deciding for a bottle of beer over coffee. Dean had yet to awaken and Castiel was still downstairs.

Sam was somewhere, they had done something with him. I considered asking Bobby about it when he caught my eye earlier but I didn't feel I had the right to ask.

Now almost noon, Dean unceremoniously came down the stairs. His steps grew louder with his descent, each noise making me wonder if it'd be the last and I'd hear him falling next. Finally he arrived on the bottom and made a beeline for the coffee pot.

My neck rested on the couch arm, allowing me to peer down into the kitchen. I watched as Dean sipped his coffee, looked at it blankly, then poured some alcohol in it.

I rolled my eyes sliding down the couch so I laid more comfortably. Judging from the amount these two drank I wouldn't be surprised if their livers weren't already ruined.

— • —

When the sun's rays were a hard light in the room Castiel and Dean descended from upstairs, making their way into the basement. I watched the door swing shut behind them; a half hour passed and it then came to my attention that the other Winchester was being escorted up.

I closed the book I'd been reading, setting it down quietly. Standing, I kept my footsteps silent and walked to stand beside Bobby.

I don't know why I felt so apprehensive. Maybe it was because the last time I saw Sam he killed ten demons and made it look as easy as taking candy from a baby.

Sam arrived first. He looked terrible; dark circles under his eyes, the stench of sweat of prominent and caused me to crinkle my nose. But when he saw Bobby his eyes lit up.

"Bobby...hey." Sam greeted. Despite his unsanitary appearance, the older man wasted no time in pulling him down for a hug.

Bobby placed a firm hand on Sam's neck making him look at him. "Glad to see you up on your feet."

Sam's eyes flickered up, avoiding the ones that were fixed on him. "Yeah, me too." Bobby regarded him for a moment longer, then embraced him once more. We all migrated into the living room. For the first time Sam noticed me and nodded in my direction. "Who are you?"

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Sam didn't look as threatening in the daylight but the image from the previous night was still fresh in my mind. Hesitantly, I replied. "I'm Marie." He raised his head slowly, as if he was trying to search his memory if he'd ever encountered a 'Marie'.

"Who is she?" Sam questioned Dean, deciding that he couldn't place me.

The latter shrugged. "An angel or something." Sam's eyes moved back over to me, multiple emotions happened across his face before it settled on unease.

"Are we having that talk now?" I asked Castiel.

"I suppose so. Do you feel alright, Sam?" The angel asked.

Sam's eyes shot up and he quickly nodded. "Yeah I feel fine. Let's hurry it up though I really want to hit the showers."

Dean shifted to lean against the table. The way he held himself I could tell he still felt hostility towards me, I only hoped Castiel explained my relationship with God. "Okay then, if you're an angel what were you doing working as a waitress?" He gestured to the pastel colored uniform I still wore. "Did you get on Heaven's bad side?"

"No. I didn't come from Heaven."

"How's that?" Bobby asked.

Castiel joined the conversation, trying to figure out my words instead of just letting me talk. "It is misleading, maybe I was mistaken and she is a nephilim? Are you?"

"No!" I raised my voice over them, having grown frustrated while they debated. If my memory serves me right a nephilim was the offspring of both an angel and mortal; even after telling them they still held doubt that I was anything but what I said I was. The humans were understandable but Castiel who could see my true form should know that I was not a half breed. Why did I seem like such an anomaly to him?

With a deep breath I spoke again, "Let's just start at the beginning. I was born an angel." I saw the familiar look of puzzlement appear and their mouths drifted open, but I held up a hand successfully cutting them off. "I don't know the specifics, only that angels require a vessel to appear in physical form but when I came into creation my vessel and I were one. God told me to go to Sioux Falls in 2006, and I've been here ever since." I had left out Harahel. I didn't entirely trust these strangers yet to tell them about her.

"I've never known him to do anything like this before." Castiel spoke in the silence.

"And you never heard about her on angel radio or from other angels?" Sam asked Castiel.

The angel shook his head, at a loss. His gaze drifted around the room as he spoke, "She must have been kept hidden. Someone in heaven could have sensed an irregularity on Earth but there's seven billion mortals and so much to do in heaven...it's possible it just wasn't a priority."

"So God's little project was able to continue because you guys thought it wasn't a priority?" I bristled as Dean's irate voice cut through the room. Everyone's head turned towards him. He opened his mouth to speak again, likely to give another sarcastic remark, when Sam shot him a look.

"Dean knock it off." The brothers stared at each other before Dean relented, leaning further back against the table.

He ran a hand down his face before throwing his arms out. "Fine, fine." He snapped. "I don't like this and I'm not gonna act like I do. I'm not about to let another dickhead on the team in case it's just a trojan horse to get Sam and I to say yes. No offense Cas."

I shot a questioning look in Castiel's direction. The angel opened his mouth but struggled to formulate words. When he spoke the sentence was choppy, "It's–the word is what Dean calls us–the angels. He doesn't hold us in high regard."

My head bobbed slowly in understanding. I met Dean's eyes. "That's not my intention. I'm only trying to do what God wants, I have no communication with the other angels."

"But technically you have angel radio?" Sam cut in. "So you could talk to them whenever."

Slightly I rolled my eyes. "Yes, but I'm not supposed to use it."

"Why?"

My gaze froze where it lingered on Sam. He tilted his head at the alarm that flickered across my face. The slip up gnawed at me. I shoved the visible emotions to a far corner of my mind to try and ease my panic some.

That offhanded sentence just opened a new tangent in the conversation which could lead to Harahel, as she was the one who had told me not to use the radio. I could always lie, I wasn't comfortable with it but if I didn't the little trust I've built gets thrown out the window.

I doubt they'd appreciate me not telling them I trained for years with an angel.

"Well what did you mean?" Bobby asked expectantly.

My jaw set and I scanned their faces. It came to the point where I was looking suspicious for I hadn't replied yet when I spoke, "Another thing God told me. He told me if I didn't want anyone to find me not to go on it."

They all nodded, accepting my words for what they were. I noted Sam still had that tilted head, eyes squinting look directed at me. My lips pressed together and I turned so I couldn't see him in my peripheral vision. Sadly my awareness of his presence pricked at my skin leading me to wish I was rid of these powers.

With a deep inhale I stood, glancing around at everyone. "Are we finished?"

Castiel's hooded eyes looked for confirmation; he received no agreements nor negates. "I believe so."

A tight smile fit on my face. "Alright. I'll be outside."

They looked reluctant to let me leave but without protests I left the room and maneuvered through the house entering the outside.


	7. Chapter 7

Crickets rhythmically chirped, their sounds pouring out from the untended grass and woodland that surrounded the salvage yard. The moon was nonexistent tonight; the ball of light was covered by fast moving clouds that carried a cool wind with it.

I sat on the porch my feet resting on the soft earth below. My eyelids were shut, using my other senses to paint a picture of my surroundings. Disregarding the past events, tonight could be considered peaceful.

The wind brushed against my skin raising hairs; the flowing air continued back and into the house through the door which was now propped open against Dean's foot.

I opened my eyes, twisting my neck to observe the man as he leaned on the door trim his arms folded on his chest. Upon seeing that I'd met his gaze, he ran a hand down his face and took a moment to clear his throat before speaking. "We've been talking." I blinked slowly; so they had. I thought I heard mumbles earlier but I couldn't discern what was going on, perhaps I shouldn't have ignored it. "Sam and I are going to leave, get back on the road. You'll stay here with Bobby."

The space between my brows creased. "Where will you two go? Is Sam even alright to leave?"

Dean's face twitched and annoyance momentarily showed. "Don't talk like you know what's best for him." He growled. I stared up at him, my eyes alert and body still.

"I'm sorry." I apologized, relenting under his hard stare. I felt I wasn't the one who should be doing it, but Dean was high strung in the moment and to accuse him of being in the wrong could cause him to snap.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever."

We were quiet for a bit until I asked, "Where are you going?"

Dean glanced at me a weird look in his eyes. "This isn't an interrogation, Sherlock." I opened my mouth to apologize again but he beat me to speaking with the answer to my question. He began casually, "I don't really know. Sam needs a win, probably we're gonna take a case,"

"Case? Are you lawyers?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't imagine the two to have that kind of job, and if I mulled over the thought long enough I knew it was unequivocally impossible.

I was given another weird look; this time it seemed he thought my ignorance was funny and couldn't suppress a chuckle. "God that'd be the catch, moonlighting as lawyers — it's not like we already don't though. No we're hunters, why the hell did you think lawyers?"

The word 'hunter' sparked some recognition in my mind but at Dean's satirizing voice my mind blanked. "Well — you said case. I figured you were lawyers."

"After the restaurant that's what you think?" He asked me. I shrugged.

He might have gone on to explain but I fell back into my thoughts.

Hunter.

Yes I did recall where that term was from now. Harahel warned me about them days before she left. They killed supernatural beings; vampires, deities, angels. One of her main reasons as to why I wasn't supposed to use my powers was that these hunters killed those who disturbed mortals. And despite my 'humane personality' as she put, it wouldn't disregard the fact that I was an angel. When Harahel spoke of them it was with distaste, she once called them barbarians.

That was the missing piece to the metaphorical puzzle I had yesterday. The array of books I had browsed, their genres something not the average person would collect in multitude unless for research. Now I knew the Winchesters were hunters, an angel guarded them along their journey. The only thing that still remained a mystery to me was Sam and his power.

Whatever the reason behind how Sam acquired his powers would have to wait.

I met Dean's gaze. The man raised his brows like he was expecting an answer from me. "Repeat that please."

"I said, are we good?"

My face fell and I dropped my eyes down to the wooden porch below. I studied the cracks in the panels and how the dirt was forever caked into the indentations from the many feet that had walked over it.

Were we good?

Harahel had told me these people would kill me but they've been — mostly — polite. I forced myself to ask the question, if I let it bounce around in my head it would only lead to me questioning everything they said and did.

"Dean." I looked at him in earnest. "Will you ever kill me?"

He stared at me, not even fazed but the bluntness of it. The silence accompanied by his unreadable face set my nerves on edge. Dean suddenly donned a smirk. "I barely know you lady. I don't like you much as of now but unless you double cross us I can't see why I'd kill you."

He pushed off the trim and grabbed the door before it could swing shut. "I'm heading in."

I watched his figure disappear out of the corner of my eye. Once he was gone I sighed, leaning back and letting my chin hit my chest.

I guess Dean Winchester not killing me was a positive.

— • —

Around nine o'clock I awoke.

Castiel's presence was still in the house as was Bobby's. Sam and Dean were gone. I would've had been curious as to where they were if Dean had not been talking about leaving yesterday.

As I sat up the muscles in my neck felt strained from sleeping at an awkward angle all night. Slowly I rolled it, feeling relief when I could do so without pain.

There was no one on the first floor and unburdened by the prickle that told me Castiel was watching me somewhere, I began to wander.

First stop; the kitchen. I could no longer ignore the gnawing inside me that was my empty stomach. My body's strength hadn't waned yet there was an instinctual feeling inside me that told me I had to eat. I questioned if the hunger was due to this mortal body or if I was actually craving food.

Opening up the fridge I was met with scattered items on shelves, nothing looking appealing, and beer took up the majority of the space on the door. My lips pursed and I let the door close on it's own, drifting over to the cabinets mounted on the walls. The cabinets stored nothing but ammo, a great amount of salt, and a few boxes of stale cereal.

At the same time I tossed the cereal into the trash Bobby wandered into the kitchen.

"Sorry 'bout that. Haven't gone shopping in awhile." I nodded in understanding, the frustration I'd been feeling melting away.

"I can go. I need to stop by my house and grab a few things too, assuming I am staying here." Bobby narrowed his eyes and I smiled, trying to curb his thoughts. "I'm not going to disappear." My voice softened and I spoke almost fondly, "I finally know why I'm here."

There was a moment of quiet before Bobby cleared his throat. "Well lady, since you've been living here I'm guessing you don't need directions?" I shook my head.

"I'll be back soon. Anything in particular you want at the store?"

Bobby thought for a moment. "Nah, you have money?"

I nodded. "At my home." His head bobbed a few times before he bid farewell. Even with the departure of Bobby I was still not alone. I turned to see Castiel regarding me with an unfathomable expression, likely torn between letting me leave alone or not. As I had with the old hunter, I tried to wish away any thoughts Castiel had of me deserting them.

"I have no reason to leave." Castiel didn't acknowledge my words, but spoke on his own seconds later.

"I have little trust in you as it is."

My brows furrowed and I suddenly countered, "Then come with me. You'll see I have no hidden intentions behind my actions."

He stared at me with a blank look. "Fine."

Before the stubborn angel could change his mind I took hold of his hand, as Harahel had done with me in the past, earning a curious look at the touch. He said nothing and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again the wooden paneling of my living room surrounded us.

I lived in a one story house on the outskirts of Sioux Falls. It was small; one bedroom, one full bath, a kitchen with all the appliances squished next to each other, my living room was the biggest room in the house and fit a sizeable couch that I found myself collapsing on after biking back from late shifts. Bikes were my chosen form of human transportation after a coworker offered to give me a ride for they thought I walked home every night, and with a sour thought I realized I'd left mine at Biggerson's.

My bed was untouched from not having slept in it in two days. I pulled a bag from my closet and began stuffing clothes in it, smaller items like my toothbrush fell in the outside pockets. Once done packing, I grabbed a pair of clothes and closed the door.

Peeling the restaurant's uniform off my skin was the most relieving feeling all week. Having the same outfit on that I used to kill demons, then slept in for two days, I was ready to burn it. I didn't enjoy wearing Biggerson's uniform, never had, and a part of me was thankful I wouldn't have to put it on again.

I now sported black leggings and a plain T-shirt. The shirt was slightly wrinkled from being folded for so long and in an attempt to smooth it out I ran my hands over the creases. I gave up after a few tries.

My attention turned to my nightstand where I pulled open the drawer. A jar rolled forward hitting the wood with a metallic clink, I took it with one of my hands then felt around before finding my wallet. In the jar was at least two hundred dollars, the wallet held my card which I used to pay my bills had half that.

Gathering up what I came here for, I left the room.

Castiel stood near the coffee table his back to me. He turned to me holding an object in his hands, one once I recognized a feeling of an invasion of privacy washed over me. He looked at me with a questioning gaze, "Who's this?"

My stomach twisted as he tilted the picture frame so I could see. I had the urge to grab it from his hands but I stopped myself, that would only cause needless suspicion. I inhaled deeply and met his eyes, a thin smile on my face. "That's my mother. She's dead."

A flicker of surprise crossed Castiel's face. "Your mother–oh. I am sorry for your loss."

My nerves relaxed some and I wasn't as bothered with Castiel holding the image of my dead mom. I was able to create a genuine smile, "It happened a while ago, but thank you." In an awkward moment he gave me the picture, which I hastily took, and place it in my bag.

"I'm all done here." I announced. "Let's go to the grocery store."

Again I took Castiel's hand, and this time we found ourselves in an alleyway besides the grocery store. I spared at glance at the angel to see if he was following me inside, he made no movement to pursue, so I headed in without him.

I obtained a carriage and drifted in each aisle to see if anything caught my eye. So far I had milk along with cereal, cans of vegetables, fresh fruit, toilet paper, and an assortment of other things. By the time I reached the checkout my cart was fairly full and the numerous items caused the cashier to raise a brow at times. Finally the last item was scanned and the cashier gave me the price,

"$89.02." I handed her four twenties and a ten, telling her to keep the change.

I left the store with five shopping bags, one was hitched high on my shoulder and I carried the others two per hand. When I reached Castiel he silently took two, I flexed my hand to relieve the soreness that'd come from the plastic pressing into the skin. When I had some feeling back, I slid the bag down from my shoulder and held it in a closed fist. With Castiel holding my cloth bag, we were ready to head back to Bobby's.

This time Castiel gripped my shoulder. I watched as the scenery changed from the alleyway to Bobby's kitchen like someone flipped a switch.

Unfazed by the teleportation, I began putting the groceries away. Seeing the fridge stacked with actual food gave me some satisfaction.

Bobby whistled as he entered the room. "Impressive. You saved me a trip," I turned towards him and a ghost of a smile crept onto my face.

"Thank you. I figured if I was to be staying here I would need things to eat."

He nodded absently, eyes straying towards the cupboards. "Do you mind?" His head jerked in their direction. It took me a second to realize what he meant, and when he did I jumped to the occasion, hurrying over. I made a mental note to move the items down to the counter where Bobby could easily reach them.

I took cereal out and read off the names, then cans of fruit and vegetables. We had gone through most of the food I'd bought, when before I could even read it off, Bobby settled for the can of pears in my hand. He took it and rolled out of the room with a quick wave of farewell.

I took his absence as a way to get back to organizing the rest of the food.

Castiel appeared after I was done sorting out the last of the it. "Bobby cleared a room out for you, top floor, the second door on the left. Your bag is in there."

I showed my gratitude on my face, then ventured to ask, "Does this mean you trust me now?"

His eyes flickered around the room as if he was searching for his answer there. When he met my gaze again he answered, "You're on the path of earning it." A smile twitched at my lips.

With humor teasing at my voice I said, "That's good news."


	8. Chapter 8

It seemed everyone was leaving.

Today Castiel woke me early, the sun hadn't risen yet and I vaguely recognized his voice probing at my mind ushering me further awake. By the time I was able to comprehend sentences he looked impatient. My body shifted into a sitting position, staring blankly at the angel before me.

"I believe I told you about my search for God. I'm leaving now to continue it. You'll be alone with Bobby."

"And you're leaving me with a warning?"

Castiel's mouth drifted open slightly, his head tilting to the side as he admitted, "Yes. I don't fully trust you but I can't bring you with me." His voice became darker, "So please, don't do anything stupid."

I nodded, my gaze strong and remained locked with his. "You can trust me to not hurt anyone."

He regarded me with a long, silent look. Then left.

After the conversation, I was too much awake to go back asleep. I found it was almost five o'clock and proceeded to wander the house. Boredom overtook me and I settled for reading more of the supernatural lore.

Hours later, still lying on the bed, Bobby opened my door. My head angled up, eyes flickering over to stare plainly at the man. He looked surprised that I was up, then jerked his head sideways. "I need your help with somethin', if you're not caught up with somethin' else that is."

I swung my legs over the bed, asking, "No, what is it?"

Bobby backed up his wheelchair then rolled out of the room, pausing in the doorway. "Follow me."

I didn't follow immediately. With haste I changed from pajamas to suitable clothes then rushed downstairs to find the man waiting in the living room.

He rolled his eyes upon my arrival. "Took ya long enough."

My lips twitched into an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, what did you need me for?"

Bobby threw a hand around the room. My eyes followed the movements but didn't grasp what he was gesturing to. "This room needs a good cleaning. I can't necessarily _bend down_ so," He looked at me expectantly.

My head bobbed, observing the empty bottles and scattered books, the cobwebs growing in darkened corners and the ash in the fireplace that needed to be emptied. Reluctance occupied my mind, but as it was only cleaning, "I'll have it done."

A smile crept across Bobby's face. "Good, well I'll be around so holler if you need anythin'." With a curt goodbye he was gone.

And I set to work.

First, I separated the non garbage from the garbage. After a quick exchange I found that Bobby didn't recycle and the bottles and cans could join the crumpled papers in the filing trash bag. The books were dusted, along with the tops of bookcases and cobwebby corners. After scooping the absurd amount of ashes into the bag, I tightly tied it and deposited it into the kitchen beside the garbage pail. With a glance at the clock I saw it was an hour since I last looked at it.

My chest heaved a sigh, then my body stretched to its full height, enjoying hearing the _pop_ from my spine.

My attention turned to finding Bobby, and located him sitting outside facing the junkyard. I approached softly as to not disturb the man who looked over the land with a lost expression. When I was behind him I cleared my throat, announcing my presence.

He jumped in his chair, snapping around to see me. His face relaxed slightly and he threw a hand at me. "Didn't yer parents ever tell you it's not right to sneak up on people?"

I offered a smile, hopefully to show that I meant no harm. "My mom mentioned something along the lines of that."

Bobby still appeared disgruntled, but wheeled around so he was facing me. "Anyway, what did you want?"

I inclined my head backwards. "I finished the living room. I think you'll find it looks much better."

He grunted. "I'll be the judge of that. Open the door for me, will ya?" I obliged and quickly grabbed the handle, swinging it open and sidestepping so there was enough space for Bobby to roll in.

We arrived in the room, Bobby was silent, observing the space with a blank face. Finally he turned around, gliding past me and offered, "You missed a spot, on the mantel."

I glanced towards it, mildly surprised that he'd picked up on the circle of dust from his seat far away. Towel in hand, I wiped down the spot, then inspected the rest of the mantel for other blemishes. Finding none, I put away the cleaning supplies and tried to find something else to occupy my time with.

— • —

Six days had passed since I'd been at Bobby's.

We'd fell into a business-like relationship. Not entirely comfortable with each other but an idea of trust had been formed. He went about his day while I mine, only addressing each other if needed.

After multiple phone calls late at night piqued my interest, Bobby told me other hunters called him for information. It turns out, hunters have a network of connections that they use to help each other. It can be used for identifying monsters, calling for backup, or making sure you're not the last one standing.

"Hunters, they're not all barbarians?" I asked Bobby casually. We sat outside on the porch, breathing in the night air.

He scoffed lightly. "What gave you that idea?" I raised a shoulder, he rolled his eyes. "Of course we're all messed up in the head. Barbarians, now that's a broad exaggeration."

I nodded in understanding. It was good to know that if I ran across another hunter I wouldn't have to worry as much as I'd originally thought.

The night dragged on. Eventually Bobby turned in. He rolled into the house, a beer clenched between his thighs as he maneuvered through the doorway. I stayed gazing at the stars.

— • —

There was something different in town.

When it started the feeling was barely noticeable, like someone's fingertips brushing my skin, enough to make my hairs raise at the sensation.

Entering a convenience store, I retrieved a newspaper and scanned it, picking out the highlights.

_Three graves desecrated, no suspect _

_Lucille Downey, age 37, was found dead in her home_

_Dalton Soule, age 40, was found dead in his home_

My lips pressed together. I'll ask Bobby about this. He should know if it's a human or something to worry about.

My mind drifted back to earlier and the buzz which still hadn't gone away. Whatever was going on, it didn't feel to be the work of a human.

— • —

I arrived at Bobby's minutes later, toilet paper in one hand and the newspaper in another. With haste I deposited the toilet paper in the downstairs bathroom and began my search for the man.

"Bobby!" I called out. I knew he was in the house, despite my several shouts I didn't receive a response. I quickly searched the rooms, before coming to one that was locked.

"Bobby?" I asked hesitantly, my knuckles hitting the wood softly. "Are you there?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm busy right now, go organize the yard! I don't want to see ya until it's good!" He shouted. My brows furrowed in confusion; he was always standoffish, but he seemed even more so now. Again I tried the door.

No doubt seeing the handle jiggle, he yelled, "Lady I told you to do somethin'!"

My expression became flat and I let the hand fall back to my side. It seemed today just wasn't his day, despite that I needed his help.

"Bobby," I paused, expecting to hear him yell again. When his voice didn't carry through the door I continued, "In town, there's been murders, something is desecrating graves. And I think I'm picking something up," I leaned closer to the wood, hoping he was listening. "it doesn't feel normal." I waited for a response. A frown twisted my lips when the other side remained silent. With a last look at the door, I walked back into the kitchen.

Bobby being difficult was the worst thing to happen right now. He's a hunter, and a hunter would know if the murders and grave desecrations are related. If something has infested Sioux Falls he should be the first to know, seeing as he has a residency here. With that thought in mind, I sat at the table and awaited for Bobby to come into view.

— • —

It'd been six hours and the man still hadn't left the room. I'd gone to check on him a few times, but was given curt responses. The day was winding down and the sky was painted with colors from the setting sun, I watched it until the vivid oranges and pinks were a darkening blue. The unsettling feeling that something was wrong only had grown.

Bobby had enough time, I decided. While I was waiting for him I was mulling over what to do in chance he didn't come out, and it looked like it was the right thing to do. I had spawned the idea to contact the Winchesters, for they were the only other hunters I knew.

The only problem was that I had no idea where they were. Bobby had multiple phones but I had no way of telling if their number was saved because I didn't know what it was. The idea to teleport to them came to mind, but I quickly discarded it for I'd only ever gone places I've been before. I didn't want to risk ending up in a wall, or worse halfway in a human.

I racked my brain for another option, then came up with Castiel. Castiel watches over the Winchesters so he has to know how to contact them. I didn't know if he'd hear my prayer, it going from an angel to another angel, but I tried anyways.

I interlocked my fingers, whispering the words aloud, asking Castiel to appear for I needed his and the Winchesters assistance.

When I was done, my eyelids slowly opened, and with relief I saw the trench coat wearing angel standing before me. I noted he didn't look happy.

"What did you do?" Castiel asked, his gaze fluttering around the room before landing back on me. "And where's Bobby?"

I stood, making my way over towards the wary angel. "Can't you feel it too? There's a sickness in this town." Castiel remained stoic but gestured for me to go on. "I tried telling Bobby but he wouldn't listen to me. He's locked up in a room."

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean 'locked up in a room?' Show me." I nodded, inclining my head to signal him to follow.

I led him to the room which held the older man and stood aside while Castiel attempted knocking, then forced opened the door. Bobby's raging voice rang clear over anything else. He insisted Castiel 'remove his feathered-ass from his property or he'd get his shotgun'.

Castiel calmly reminded Bobby that shotguns were useless on him. Then the room grew silent and I looked in.

A blonde sat on the bed. She was nervous, one hand twisting the bedsheets while the other gripped Bobby's shoulder. Bobby, beneath all that anger, appeared to share her fear.

Bobby glanced at me in the doorway and his temper melted away, his expression shifting into one of pleading, a shocking sight to see on the man. "Just leave. She's fine with me, I'll take care of her so go."

"Who is she?" Castiel asked.

It seemed the woman was going to answer the question but Bobby cut her off, answering in a gruff tone, "None of your concern. Now leave."

I shared a look with Castiel, who said nothing but turned towards the door. When the door closed behind us he spoke, "I understand what you meant about the town having a sickness." I gave him a questioning look. He explained with a quiet sigh, "The woman, she's not alive. I don't know how, but it's possible more of the town is affected."

"Could you get ahold of the Winchesters?" I inquired. "They might know what's going on, and how to deal with Bobby."

The angel didn't jump at the idea of calling the Winchesters but nonetheless, he agreed. "I'll alert them of the situation," He explained. "You'll stay here, make sure whatever is going on doesn't get out of hand."

Happy to have gotten my first task, I gave an affirming nod and let Castiel know I would deal with whatever came up.

I blinked and he was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam, Dean, Castiel and I sat in a booth of a small restaurant, early morning, the former and I am waiting to order breakfast. The brothers mumbled words to each other, that was the only talk that occurred since we took our seats five minutes ago.

I perked up as a waiter came over. He scrawled down two orders of short stacks and one tall stack, with sides of bacon, eggs and extra bacon. The man then left. Instead of falling into another silence, Dean propped his elbows on the table, leaning towards me and saying, "So what's going on with Bobby?"

I spared a glance st Castiel, who nodded for me to continue. My gaze turned back to Dean and I said, "It's more the whole of Sioux Falls. Castiel and I think the dead are coming back to life."

Sam quirked a brow. "Like zombies?"

My mind drifted to the nature of the woman in Bobby's company. She had the semblance of a human, she didn't bear a ravenous hunger or the rotten appearance of a decaying corpse.

I shook my head. "No, I don't think so."

Dean rolled his eyes up. "If it's not zombies, then what else could it be?"

"A witch, perhaps?" Castiel proposed.

I slowly bobbed my head in agreement. "A spell seems like the best answer."

"Great," Dean exclaimed. "I hate witches and their voodoo crap."

The waiter came then with the food. Dean had the most, but finished with the rest of us. Afterwards, we headed over to Bobby's.

As expected when we entered Bobby's, he was nowhere to be seen.

Dean stomped around, examining the rooms. He vaguely gestured at the air with confusion, "Did he clean?"

I shrugged. "I did one room but," My eyes flickered over the entirety of the house which was tidier since I'd left it. "not all this."

"Hey Bobby!" Sam shouted. "It's us, we're back!"

Thumping from upstairs drew our attention there. The Winchesters moved to investigate but didn't have to as Bobby rolled into view.

"What are y'all doing here?" Bobby called down.

Dean nodded in Castiel's direction. "Cas showed up and said something was going on. So, what's going on?"

Bobby was silent as he rode down the chair lift, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks. When it reached the bottom the brothers drifted over to him, Castiel and I hung back.

"I suppose those two have would have filled you in on everything by now." Bobby pointed towards us.

"Marie just gave us the gist." I looked over to Sam as he tried to get the hesitant Bobby to tell them the situation.

A pregnant silence filled the room, then the older man sighed. He absently scratched his head as he spoke, "She came a few days ago. I did all the tests, I'm not stupid–"

"Bobby who came?" Dean cut him off.

"Karen, my dead wife."

We all glanced at each other at the revelation of the mysterious woman's identity.

I cleared my throat, asking, "Was she cremated?" If she was, then the lack of bones would make the situation more difficult.

Bobby nodded. "Her ashes are buried in the cemetery."

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I know it's your wife but we gotta work this case. You know what's gonna happen when it's over?"

Bobby's lips pressed together in a firm line. He gave a stiff nod in understanding. "I know. It was good seeing you boys." He flipped the switch and the machine began moving him back upstairs.

They waited until Bobby was out of earshot to begin talking again.

"So, I guess we question the ones involved and see if there's anything funky going on?" Sam proposed.

Dean snorted. "Yeah there's definitely something _funky _going on. Alright who were the victims again?"

I pulled out the newspaper clipping and read off, "Lucille Downey, Dalton Soule, and Benny Sutton. All found dead in their homes."

"Any witnesses?" Sam asked.

I shrugged. "Not that I know of."

"Shall we split up and investigate each home?" Castiel spoke up.

"Great idea, Fred." Castiel tilted his head in confusion at the reference. Dean sighed and continued, "I don't trust you not to botch it up so you're with me Cas, we'll go to Sutton's. Sam check out Soule's. We'll meet up at Downey."

"What about me?"

Dean pressed his lips together, glancing around pretending to not get the question. "What about you?"

I stared at him, frustration prickling faintly beneath my skin. "I can take Downey, it'll be faster."

"She's right Dean," My eyes flickered up to Sam, a curious look being sent towards him as he vouched for me.

"I agree." Castiel voiced.

The older Winchester frowned, not appreciating having been out-voted. Then he raised his brows, "Fine. I hope you know what you're looking for."

"If it's witches," I pondered, thinking back to the reading I'd done. "then would there be hex bags?"

Sam shrugged. "Possibly. Look for anything out of the ordinary."

"Alright let's go. Sam we'll drop you off first." Dean announced as he started towards the door.

We knew the victims addresses from the papers. I could have teleported to Downey's but as I'd never been there before I was reluctant to try. Instead, I jogged over to the group leaving, calling out, "Do you mind if I catch a ride with you?"

They all turned my way, then glanced towards Dean who merely rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards the car. I climbed in the back, beside Castiel. My inquisitive eyes drifted over to him. It was strange to see him, a more _natural_ angel, preferring a car over the regular form of travel.

The car rumbled to life, and we backed out of the driveway. As said, Sam was dropped off first. Then I at the Downey's.

Before exiting the car, I stared at the dark house with police tape barring the door. "What if someone is home?" I asked.

"Then make up a bullshit excuse." Dean supplied. "Now move it,"

With haste, I climbed out of the black car, then watched as it sped away down the road. It was still daylight as I walked up the stone pathway leading to the Downey's front door. I rang the doorbell. No response. I tried jiggling the handle to find it as expected; locked. As I was about to teleport inside, the splatter of rain suddenly hit my cheek. I looked up to the sky to see heavy clouds rolling in. Thunder boomed in the distance, and lightning accompanied it.

I sighed. Another rainstorm.

* * *

**A/n **Sorry for the long wait with this chapter! I'll try not to not update for like three months haha. Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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